


The Forgotten Land

by chant_de_lune



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Narnia AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3320906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chant_de_lune/pseuds/chant_de_lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The queen of Narnia runs from a frightful match as the prince of Telmar flees for his life.  What good can come of two royals whose  people hate each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Little Queen of Cair Paravel

_A long time ago, when Narnia was dashed near ruin, two nobles rose in the midst of chaos.  Where others would fight for the land, these two decided to unite their families not in matrimony, but in solidarity.  This thus created the two and later four seats of power.  In the Golden Age, four monarchs sat at Cair Paravel._

_There was High King Thelonious the Powerful, a Jaha who had saved Narnia from the threats of the White Witch.  At his side reigned High Queen Abigail the Calm.  A widow of King Jacob Griffin, her gracious, healing demeanor found great favor with the people, who eagerly accepted her as a true-blood queen.  Then there was King Wells the Humble, son of Thelonious, who stood as head of the lower court.  Never a man for combat, he was one of the greatest diplomats that Narnia had ever seen.   And beside him ruled daughter of Abigail, Queen Clarke the Spirited._

_And this story belongs to her._

 

* * *

 

"Your Majesty?"  

Clarke looked up from her drawing of the river Rush at the beckon.  Her advisor Raven was standing at the doorway of her chambers.   "Yes, Raven?”

      “Your mother wishes a word with you in the throne room, my queen.”   

Clarke rose from her seat and walked over to her confidant.  ”Very well, I’ll go to her.” She placed her hands affectionately on Raven’s cheeks. “Leave the titles for the halls, Raven.  In these rooms, I’m just Clarke.”  

    At Raven’s smile, Clarke left for the throne room a few marble corridors away.  Upon entering, she caught sight of her mother sitting regally on her throne with a stern glare.  Clarke instantly stiffened.   _Spine straight, shoulders back, head up, walk without fear_ , that was what Abigail had taught her since childhood.  She bowed before her mother and ascended to her stone chair one seat away.  Abigail’s eyes softened for a moment, easing the anxiety from Clarke. ”How are you, darling?”

"I’m fine, Mother.  And yourself?" 

      “Also adequate.  Tell me, are you ready for tomorrow?” asked Abigail.   Clarke thought hard, searching her memory for-  

"Oh! The visitor from the Lone Islands?  He’s coming tomorrow!?"  

   ”Yes, I reminded you three days ago. And his name is Prince Finn of the house Collins, be sure not to forget that,” said Abigail firmly.  

Clarke sighed, running a hand through the ends of her hair.  ”I do remember why he is coming.”

"Oh, that is a relief."  

Clarke turned to look sharply at her mother. “I am to turn 18 in a month, and you want me married - at least engaged - by then, since that was the age you were when you wed Father.”  

Abigail looked away, her mouth forming a thin line. “Clarke, please understand.  You are my only heir; I just want you to have time.” 

"No, you want me to bear more than one child, to amend your failure!" retorted Clarke.  Abigail held up a hand in protest. 

"It was a tragedy that the late High Queen Jaha and I succumbed to infertility after the births of you and Wells.  But it is an obligation as queen to further your family’s line!"  

Clarke huffed, rising from her throne. “Would I leave Cair Paravel? Once I am wed, I am confined to a castle more than I am now, either here or in the Lone Islands.” 

"Clarke - " 

"I am sorry, Mother, but I am a queen, not a princess! I’ve held court, I’ve defended the Shuddering Woods from the centaurs!  This is not meant to end so I can become a trophy for an Islander!"  

Abigail motioned her forward, grasping her hands.  ”You will never become a trophy, Queen Clarke the Spirited. You were given that epithet for a reason. Whoever fathers your children will not take your place nor Wells’ here in Narnia.  But please, humor me, and court the prince who has heard of your esteem and reputation.”    

Clarke sighed, nodding slightly.  Queen Abigail showed a rare smile. “Very well, you are dismissed.  Off you go.”            

Clarke curtsied and made her way back towards her chambers. Along the hallway, she met with a familiar face.                                                

"Everything alright, my queen?" asked the kindly High King Thelonious.  

Clarke nodded again.  ”Nothing to worry about, my king.” He patted her on the cheek and departed.  Clarke opened the door to her rooms and was greeted by Raven.  

"I assume that was about tomorrow, my l- Clarke,"  said Raven as Clarke sat down, unfastening the top of her gown.  

"Yes, and if I suppose I am to meet my future husband tomorrow, then I must look my best.  Tonight, I will draw myself a bath of rosewater and honey. Would you be kind enough to braid my hair afterwards?"  asked Clarke as she divested herself of her dress and bodice.  

"Of course," said Raven with another light smile.  


	2. The Prince of the Telmarines

_It is said that pirates were the ones to turn Telmar into a kingdom of glory, that they came from the land beyond the Western Sea and bred amongst the remnants of the Wild Folk. From the tatters of cities rose villages and ports, bound together by language and customs. The people thrived as the newcomers brought skills of medicine and metalwork.  Soon, a great castle was erected, mere miles from the sea.  Generations later, a magnificent king came to power, leading the Telmarines into the highest period of peace and prosperity that they had ever seen.  He vanquished enemies from the Woods, settling a dispute that had lasted for centuries. When he died of an ill heart, his beloved Queen took the helm, gaining high respect within court. She and her two children continued the King’s legacy.  That queen’s name was Aurora Blake._

_And though her wisdom was great and her influence beyond compare, her children are the forefront of this story._

* * *

 

     “Open the drawbridge!” cried a voice from the top of a turret.  As the bridge came down, Bellamy’s horse cantered across, leading a party of eleven behind him.  Jubilant shouts rang through the cobbled streets.

“The Prince has returned!” 

Bellamy chuckled as commoners waved from their windows at his parade.  He waved back until he reached the royal stables.  The group dismounted and housed their horses before venturing towards the throne room.  Bellamy was mere steps from the door when he was stopped by the Queen’s physician Lincoln.  

“Welcome back, Prince Bellamy. I trust your mission was a success,” he bowed before the youth.  

         Bellamy nodded.  “The sea serpent preying on the children of Ganner’s Height is dead.  Sir Miller carries its head and scales in the wooden chest he bears.”  He gestured to the men behind him. Lincoln smiled slightly as Miller offered the trunk to him.    

“I’ll put this in the trophy chamber until we can properly present it to the Queen. She is in the midst of a session with the Princess Octavia.  I suggest you lads clean up before announcing yourselves.  You reek of the sea.”   

A round of laughter rang at Lincoln’s comment as Bellamy took his crew to the baths. They stripped and washed thoroughly in the warm water, cajoling about their quest.   “If only courting women were as easy as slaying a monster,” bemoaned Jasper, shaking water from his hair.  

“Speak for yourself, Jas.  Most of us in here prefer men,” said Monty with a wink towards Miller.  Bellamy rolled his eyes and laughed gently,  the low sound catching the attention of his knights.  They rounded on him, splashing him with suds. 

“Don’t mock us, your Grace. You need a lady more than the rest of us combined!” yelled Jasper, reaching for his shirt. 

Bellamy shielded himself with his hands.  “Oh shut up you lot, I’ll find someone.” 

    “Ah, Bellamy may care more about girls than politics, doesn’t mean he has the personality to keep one interested,” smirked Miller, dodging a slap from his prince.  

“You all know my mother.  She wouldn’t accept me marrying someone who couldn’t keep me quick on my feet.” Bellamy shook his head, dressing swiftly and strapping his sword to his side.  Leading the knights back to the throne room, Bellamy was halted by a figure in black robes.  He stiffened. 

“Hello, Lord Kane.”  

“Hello, Bellamy. I trust the hunt was successful?”  At the youth’s nod, Marcus Kane stepped closer.  “And what of my son John?

“Sir John and his men were four days behind us.  Last I saw, they were drinking at a bar in Dunnemore amongst … other activities.” Bellamy gritted his teeth.  Kane gave a curt nod and departed from them. 

Jasper piped up, “What did the Queen’s escort want? Information on the bastard John Murphy?”

“So it would seem,”  replied Bellamy as he opened the door to the throne room and strode across the marble floor, beaming at his mother who sat high on her throne.  

“Our quest-” Before he could genuflect, a smaller figure with a shrill shriek of delight had pounced on him, embracing him tightly.  “Good to see you, O,” he whispered as he hugged her.  

“I missed you, big brother,” came her response in his ear.  He murmured a quick “you too” before breaking apart, noticing Aurora’s stern expression at Octavia’s interruption.     

“Mother, we have defeated the leviathan terrorizing Ganner’s Height and have brought back its head and scales,” he stated as Lincoln brought forth the chest.  Aurora accepted it with a proud smile. 

“Well done, all of you.  You will be handsomely rewarded.  Now if you could all vacate the chamber, I’d like a few words with my son.  Octavia, that means you too,” she said as people exited the room.  Once Octavia had left, Bellamy stepped towards the throne.  “I’ve been so worried ever since you left,” said Aurora, embracing him. 

“I’ll do my best to be more prompt in the future,” Bellamy replied.  Aurora chuckled, leaning back to hold his face in her hands. 

“You remind me more and more of your father with each passing day, Bellamy.”  Bellamy’s gaze softened as he smiled and sat in the chair next to the throne.  “I know you doubt yourself, but I have heard the speeches you give to your men. Someday soon, you will be ready to be as magnificent a king.” 

“Not until you are ready to reunite with Father.  You are the greatest Queen that Telmar has ever seen.” he said solemnly.  Aurora laughed at his adulation.   

“You say that because you have known no other.”             

“I say it because it is the truth, and I see the potential in Octavia.” he chuckled.  Aurora waved her hands in a dramatic gesture. 

“Octavia, Octavia, whatever will we do with her?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's Bellamy's side! I sorta pushed Octavia out the door but she will make a bigger presence in chapter 4. I loved picturing Bellamy's exchanges with his mother, and I hope the show does more flashbacks. I also like the idea of Bellamy's dad being a more positive figure in his life than what the canon implies. Tell me what you think, and the next chapter of Clarke's story will be up soon! :)


	3. A Runaway Royal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke takes her fate into her own hands.

A fanfare signaled the arrival of the prince from the Lone Islands.  A servant knocked on the door to Clarke’s chamber, calling out that the queen must hurry.  Clarke fastened a pearl necklace around Raven’s neck.    

“You look beautiful.”  Raven smiled.   

“So do you,” she replied.     

Clarke switched places with Raven, sitting in front of the mirror as Raven took the ornate ceremonial crown and handed it to her.  Clarke placed it on her head, tilting it back a bit for comfort, and rose from her chair.  They paced toward the throne room.  Clarke took a deep breath as she entered, making her way towards the ornate chair.  

She and Wells had inherited the seats from their deceased parents.  Her fellow king smiled as she sat down.  

“Are you ready?”  

Clarke sighed.  “I would rather just get it over with.” 

 Wells chuckled.  Clarke glanced over and squinted.  

“Wells… is that rouge on your collar?”  She could not see any smudges on his dark skin, but it seemed as though there was a familiar perfume wafting around him.  

Wells shook his head.  “No, why would I have that?  You know I’m courting no one.”  Clarke raised her eyebrows as Wells rubbed his collar.  

“Probably just residue from breakfast.”  

Clarke smirked, but her attention was soon diverted by the large doors opening slowly.  All four royals stood up in unison as a figure sauntered forward.  He was clad in green vestments, and his hair fell to his shoulders.  Clarke gazed at him silently, her ears picking up a small gasp from the court.  

“Presenting the heir to the kingdom of the Lone Islands, his Royal Highness Prince Finn of the House Collins,” boomed a voice from the end of the chamber.  

Clarke stifled a groan and rolled her eyes.

“Quite a title.”   

Wells bit back a laugh, while Abby cast her a withering look.  Prince Finn came forward and knelt before the royals.  Following Abby’s cue, Clarke stepped forward and extended her hand.  Finn kissed it, then rose and took her hand in his own.  

“We are honored by your presence,”  Clarke said flatly, but with a small smile.  Finn in turn gave her a grin.  “As I am honored by yours, your Highness.”  

After a few still moments, Thelonious stepped forward.  

“Now that the formalities are complete, the feast shall begin within the hour.”  He clapped his hands and  people rose to leave the chamber.  Wells stood up.  

“Prince Finn, allow me to show you to the guest chamber where you will be staying.”  He extended his hand gracefully and began walking away with the stranger.  Clarke caught Raven’s eye and the latter gave her a frantic gesture.  They left the chamber room together, walking as fast as their skirts would allow.  

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know who the prince was…” 

“Raven, what is wrong?”  

“I cannot speak well of his character, Clarke.  He’s a dangerous sort.” said Raven, her hands shaking slightly.  

“What do you mean?” asked Clarke, brows furrowed.    

“Before I came to the palace,  you know I worked with a blacksmith in a village near the ports.  Prince Finn would often come and visit the town… but his visits were debaucherous. Taverns, brothels, making a show of his drunkeness in broad daylight like a fool!”  She grew exasperated, her hands clenched tightly together.  Clarke’s own expression became distressed. 

“That was three years ago.  Perhaps he has changed now,” she laid a hand on Raven’s arm.  Raven shook her head.      

“I remember four times he came to the ports, always strutting about as if he were better than the lot of us, leering and the like. I don’t want you to marry him, for your sake and for the sake of the kingdom.  You deserve better.”  Clarke nodded, remembering the leer on his face as he kissed her hand.     

“I don’t want to marry him at all,” she whispered.   At that moment, someone knocked on the door to Clarke’s quarters.  “It’s Wells,” called a voice from outside.  Clarke hastened to open the door.  Wells walked in, immediately going to Raven’s side. 

“What’s wrong?  Why did you two run from the throne room?”  he asked.  Raven took a breath.  

“I didn’t know Prince Finn was who the High Queen chose as a suitor for Clarke.  I knew him from my past, and he is a vile man!  A vile man with hands that slither like serpents!” she said, her voice breaking into a sob.  Wells knelt next to her, one hand clasped in hers and the other palming her cheek.

“He’s touched you, hasn’t he?” he asked, voice filled with concern, and perhaps a hint of anger.   Raven nodded, a tear slipping down her face. 

“He…. it wasn’t violation. But I was so disturbed that Sinclair nearly threatened him with a red hot poker.” 

 

Clarke stared as Wells clenched his jaw, and she remembered the red smudged on his collar.   She knelt down beside Raven, rubbing her shoulders for a few moments until her breathing became steady.  

“The two of you, how long?” she asked.  Wells glanced at the ground and then at Raven before replying,  “About six months.”   Clarke smiled and stood up.  

“Well, then I know you two are very capable of keeping secrets,” both of them smiled sheepishly as she continued,  “which is why I’m telling you that I’m going to run.”  

 

Wells bolted upright, shaking his head. 

“Clarke, you cannot abandon the throne!” 

 

“I have to, Wells! My mother will insist on Finn staying here if she thinks there’s a chance I’ll marry him. He has no business staying here if I go.”    

“What are you going to do?” asked Raven.  Clarke set her mouth in a thin line, looking around the room.  

“I’ll… find another suitor! I’ll go find someone worth marrying who is honorable,” she said, clasping Raven’s hands.  “So that Prince Finn has no business being near you again.”    

Raven smiled, squeezing her hands firmly.  

“Narnia does not deserve you as queen. I won’t breathe a word to your mother.”    Wells put his hand on Clarke’s shoulder.  

“Neither will I.  But we need a plan for your exit, otherwise your mother will hunt us down for information.”  Clarke paced to her bureau and pulled a tunic and leggings from a drawer.  She put those into a satchel and grabbed a water skein from her desk.   She slipped on her boots underneath her gown.  

“I’ll duck out during the feast.  Maya’s always been kind to me, she’ll slip me food from the kitchens and give me a cloak.”   She looked over to Raven.  

“Do you want to come with me?”  Raven glanced between her and Wells indecisively.

 

“I’ll be fine here, Clarke.  If both of us leave, it will raise more suspicion,”  she said.  The clamor of voices in the hallway signaled the start of the feast.  Clarke looked to Wells and Raven once more, nodding as they made their way to the banquet hall.  She stowed her satchel behind a suit of armor, smoothing her dress before entering.     

 

Clarke sat at the long table, her mother and Raven on either side, and Finn directly across.  She forced herself to eat, trying to block out the tinny chatter around her.  She smiled sweetly at Finn’s jokes, and averted her eyes from his immoderate gazing.  When he peered curiously at Raven, asking “Do I know you?”, she tugged on her mother’s sleeve.  

 

“I’m not feeling well. My food is rather rich.”  Abby frowned, but slowly nodded her head.  

“You and Raven are excused.  But please come back soon as you are well.”     

 

Clarke mumbled her thanks with her eyes downcast.  As she paced to the door, she looked over her shoulder at Wells.  He gave her a firm nod and a smile.  _Good luck_ , it said.  

 

She hastened to the suit of armor with Raven at her heels.  

 

“Be careful out there,” Raven hugged her and cupped her cheeks with fervor.  “It’s dangerous.”  

 

“I promise I’ll return,” said Clarke.  Raven gave her a familiar smirk.  

 

“Remember to bring back a husband with you.”  Clarke smiled.  

 

“It cannot be that hard to find an honorable man.”           

 

Her heart pounded as she left the kitchens, Maya’s blue cloak around her shoulders and a few days’ worth of bread in her satchel. 

She mounted her horse and galloped past the gate, faint shouts of alarm following her.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What??? A two-year old fic rising from the dead???  
> It's more likely than you think! 
> 
> Yeah, uh... life happened, but I've always had this chapter on the back burner.  
> Thank you to those who have read and commented!  
> (a reminder that friendly reviews are always more motivating than negative ones :) 
> 
> Next chapter is back to Bellamy, and I promise you will know what happens to him sometime soon!


End file.
